


Over The Phone

by borislegasov



Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Chernobyl (TV 2019)
Genre: Kinky, M/M, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prompt Fic, Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-07
Updated: 2020-10-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26884114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/borislegasov/pseuds/borislegasov
Summary: "Did you call me just to get off to my voice?"Valery is away and calls Boris with some needs...
Relationships: Valery Legasov/Boris Shcherbina
Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946320
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39





	Over The Phone

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is longer than I anticipated, but I really hope you all enjoy!

The phone sounded at 9pm on the dot, just as it had done every day for the past week - like smooth, succulent clockwork, immediately pleasing to the ear simply based on who was calling. Boris picked up the phone swiftly, holding it firmly, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“Good evening, Valery,” he spoke jovially, his tone light yet still possessing its usual gravelly quality. 

“Borja,” came the simple reply - quieter than usual, the tone greeting him a little harsher than he was used to.    
  
His brow furrowed in bold curiosity as he attempted to process the tone of which he’d been greeted with, attempting to fathom why he had been spoken to so plainly by a man who usually had so much to say. He allowed the line to stay quiet for a few moments, as if waiting for more words to come, but they didn’t. Eventually, he broke the silence himself — his own voice dropping lower, deeper, a slight sternness lingering. 

“Is everything alright, love?” He shuffled as he awaited an answer, sitting further up in bed (he always retired to bed in order to take Valery’s calls; he found it more comfortable and it permitted him to feel like he was here with him), back firmly pressed against the headboard and legs stretched out in front of him, the sheet pulled tightly over them. 

“Yes,” came a reply almost immediately. “But…” he went on, stammering over the basic word. Boris’s brow furrowed even tighter, knotting together in the centre as confusion thrummed through him, baffling him further. “But I’ve been feeling a little tense…” 

“What do you mean, Valera? Have you had a bad day?” He asked, concern rising in his tone, voice dropping to a contained whisper as he spoke to him, hoping to decipher what the issue was quickly. His heart began to beat heavier in the silence that followed the question, his body uneasy with worry. 

“No, not at all,” both the tone of his voice and the speed in which he answered heightened the confusion buzzing through his mind even more. “I’m just feeling a little tense, is all.” 

Realisation dawned on the older man, then, putting two and two together — though he didn’t need to be a genius to piece the tone of his voice, the tentativeness, the lack of immediate rambling… It was suddenly easy to decipher what was bothering his love, and the thought of it made him smirk hard. He almost felt foolish for not detecting it sooner; the hard edge to his voice, the gritty undertones, the slight bite in it; all tell-tale signs of arousal. He placed the blame on being so far apart from him and having to deal with talking to him on the phone, supposing that he benefited from seeing his face as well as hearing the qualities in his voice. 

“Tense?” He asked, nonplussed, acting as if he had no idea what he meant by it. 

There was a distinct throat clearing on the other end of the line which forced Boris to bite back a chuckle, not wishing to give away his perceptiveness. After it came a harsh swallow, clearly audible, that made something stir in the pit of his stomach. His body was incredibly receptive to every single noise, no matter how minute it was. 

“I’m…” There was hesitation in Valery’s voice. Hesitation which was normally sweet, like sugar on his tongue, but now it was amusing. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he listened to the stammering on the other end of the line, smirking harder as it seemed to worsen. 

As he waited he absently thought about what could’ve gotten him in this state — had he been thinking about  _ him _ ? Had he taken a nap and woken up that way? Had he just simply had a stressful day and wished to escape? He knew how the conferences he went to could be and wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case… But such a reaction had yet to occur, so it was entirely new to him. Hope began to build within as he considered that it was thoughts of  _ him _ that had caused such a stir and forced him to call with a specific intention. He had, admittedly, fallen victim to such feelings late at night whilst attempting to sleep - which had become increasingly difficult given that he no longer had a warm form to cuddle up to - but had never given in to them. He had long lost the desire to fix such issues himself, preferring instead to experience them together — and it seemed that the intelligent, infuriating scientist much felt the same. As silence continued through the line, the only audible shift being Valery’s breathing, he decided that taking charge of the situation was the only decent way forward. 

“Tell me, Valera…” He spoke boldly, confident, limbs trembling slightly from the mild anticipation trickling through him; every sinew hesitating none in responding to the situation at hand, potentially unfolding before them. “Did you call me just so you can get off to my voice?” He asked after a pause, pressing the phone firmer against his ear so that he could capture any reaction, regardless of volume. 

The reaction, as anticipated, had been attempted to be muffled. He heard the unmistakable sound of a palm pressing over the mouthpiece, attempting to obscure his hearing, followed by the sweetest groan. It was low, short, almost pained… and oh, so arousing. His body heated considerably, temperature shooting up out of his control, arousal pulsing through him, forcing his eyes to drift closed as his mind revelled in the sound he’d just been blessed with. It seemed that his assumption was  _ entirely _ correct if the reaction was anything to go by. And, if the reaction was a sign of things to come, he was certainly excited. 

A simple stammered acknowledgement pulled him out of his mild daydream, tugging him back to the present with a deep exhale. “Y-yes, I called you just to hear your voice.” He couldn’t help but notice the ever clever man had managed to skirt around the actual question put forth to him and had entirely avoided what he had been asked. 

“I think you misunderstood me,” he spoke plainly, evenly, as if he were talking to a colleague that had genuinely misunderstood him. He  _ knew _ that Valery was trying to avoid the question at hand, but he wasn’t going to permit him to worm out of it. “I asked…” But before he could finish his question, a hefty sigh sounded through the line, followed by a groan similar to the one he’d had the privilege to hear a few moments prior. This one, longer and deeper in tone, shot straight down to his crotch which throbbed hard from the pleasure gained from it. 

“Yes. Yes. I called you to get off to your voice, Borja.” He couldn’t refrain from smirking at the harshness in his lover’s tone, revelling in just how pent up he sounded, how frustrated he must be feeling. “I had a dream about you last night and I’ve been a mess ever since. I dreamt that you and I… were—-” a small chuckle, a deep breath, almost a pant. 

  
“Well, the main focus of the dream was you giving me a very public handjob. It was indecent, of course, and we were in your office… Anyone could walk in at any moment so I had to be quiet, you said, and once or twice the phone rang and you answered it even though I was sitting there with my cock in your hand…” a pause to clear his throat, a swallow. “You didn’t stop stroking me whilst speaking to whomever was telephoning, but you glared at me as if to tell me I’d be in deep trouble if I made a single noise. You put the phone down after a while and turned your attention back to me, staring at me with an intensity that honestly makes me shiver whenever I imagine it… and I think that’s what’s had me weak all day. I’ve barely been able to stand up straight because my legs kept trying to give up beneath me. It was the most vivid dream I’ve ever had of that nature and… I didn’t expect it. So it’s taken me off guard.” He fell silent then, presumably waiting for a response, but Boris was completely equally taken off guard by the vividness of the dream — he hadn’t expected such a thing, nor had he anticipated that he would be presented with such a delectable image, such a sordid event to be developed in such a seemingly innocent man’s mind… That thought alone made him chortle — he had long ago stopped underestimating his love, realising that he was considerably more kinky than he had ever imagined. But, be that as it may, he had been stunned to silence. 

“Borja? Have I made you speechless?” A teasing voice which, instead of making him smile, made his jaw flex. His arousal had increased so much that his body was practically vibrating, his trousers suddenly too tight, his fist hurting as it gripped onto the sheets beside him, twisting them beneath his hard touch. He held the phone tighter still, so much so that the plastic in his palm squeaked mildly in protest to the force. The arousal was immense and he realised just how much he, too, needed it. He took a deep breath inwards and attempted to prepare himself to respond. 

“That dream sounds perfect.” He paused to swallow again, eyes closing momentarily as he breathed deeply to try and get a grip on his own arousal, to take control back again. “I  _ would _ do something like that. You know I like the idea of having you in public somehow… So that is certainly something I would endeavour to partake in, love,” a small smirk tugged at the right corner of his lips, his eyes narrowing slightly simultaneously. He was encouraged by the sharp inhale on the other end of the line, spurred on by it. “Do you like the idea of me stroking your cock whilst I talk business to someone? Do you like it when I talk seriously? When my voice drops low, stern, angry perhaps…” He could almost  _ hear _ the frantic nodding and smiled, affectionately now. His love really  _ was _ in a state, and he was going to enjoy every single minute of it. 

“Maybe you like the idea of us almost getting caught, the fact that people would be walking by the door, that if you made the slightest noise we would be caught… I’d have to figure out a way to shut you up, of course, because you do like to make an ample amount of noise… And whilst I usually would enjoy that, you can’t get me caught, you filthy man.” His voice had dropped to a low hum, gruffer and more intense. He paused to listen to the shuffling on the other end of the line, the clear movement of fabric audible. “What are you doing there, love?” He asked, curiosity piqued. 

“I- was taking my trousers off… If that’s okay?” There was a definite question in his voice, opening up a plethora of different options for where the conversation could turn. 

“No, it’s not,” he immediately responded, allowing the painful silence to linger in the air. “I don’t want you to  _ just _ take your trousers off. I want you completely naked. We can’t let those clothes of yours get filthy when I make you come just with my voice…” 

_ “Oh!”  _ The surprised squeak made him laugh, a deep rumbling laugh. He had no doubt that this had taken Valery completely off-guard. He had probably telephoned with the vague idea that perhaps he would tell him he was feeling tense and expand no further, imagining that the real purpose of his call would be undecipherable and thus would permit him to escape without having to explain himself. He could also perceive that he was happy at the surprising turn of events, which made Boris feel a remarkable sense of smugness. He listened avidly to the metallic sound clinking against the floor as the trousers fell down his thick legs, baring the gorgeous freckled skin to the air. He imagined being able to press a palm to the back of his thighs, perhaps trailing to the inners, pushing them open for him… Or wrapping a hand around the knee, anchoring himself there as he rested between those delectable thighs, leaning down to kiss him with fervour… A low grumble tumbled from his lips just as Valery came back to the phone. It was now, presumably, extremely clear that they were both in this predicament together. 

“Are you naked for me, darling?” He asked softly, moving himself back to lay down on the bed properly, flat on his back. He raised his head just enough to look down his body, immediately registering the large tent in his trousers — the defined ridge of his cock evident, the thick length arching upwards. “Naked and laid on the bed, I do hope,” he added as he lifted a hand to the front of his trousers, deftly opening them and pushing them down his hips ever so slightly; just enough to ease the building pressure of the suddenly too-small fabric. 

“Yes. Naked and on the bed,” he affirmed. “But my cock— is in a state. It’s been hard for most of the day…” he whispered, as if they could be overheard, even though they couldn’t.

“Mmmm,” he acknowledged in response, thoughtful. “Does that mean other people have been able to see that delectable cock through your trousers?” He asked suddenly, brows raising, mouth tugging downwards in mock annoyance, as if he could be seen. 

“N-no, it- my trousers are too big… So…” He heard the reassuring smile in his voice and wanted immediately to tell him that he was playing, that it was the usual power-play they tended to partake in, but soon found it unnecessary. “Are you jealous... Sir?” The last word was a purr, thoroughly filthy, disgustingly so in its tone. Deep, raspy,  _ challenging. _

“You little devil-” he growled, earning a delighted chuckle in response. “Listen to me, Valera,” he spoke impossibly harsher now, spurred on infinitely by the teasing he’d just been subjected to. He heard a tight swallow and a slow shuffle. “You called me, so I think it’s in your best interest to be good, don’t you? After all… You told me you need to hear my voice, because I’ve turned you on.” Silence followed his words, and he took that as an agreement.

“Now… I want you to apply a little lubrication to your palm and then to your cock. Just enough for me to be able to hear how slick you are for me,” his voice was uniform in its tone, easing out of him. 

————————————————- Valery’s POV ————————————————-

Boris’s voice was absolutely destroying him. It made him weak at the knees at the best of times, but hearing it so gravelly, deep and commanding was enough to force him right down to his knees  _ as well _ as make them weak. His entire body trembled as he obeyed his latest command, reaching over to the bedside table to where his wash bag was, opening it and extracting the lubricant that he’d bought prior to departing just in case an opportunity such as this arose; though at the time he’d greatly doubted that it would. He dropped back to the bed and opened it, dropping a generous dollop into his palm, curling his fingers into it to spread it across his fingers also. Before he wrapped his hand around his cock, however, he picked up the phone with his other hand to make sure that he could be heard when his hand finally made that tantalising first contact. His presence was acknowledged with a question, “are you doing as you’re told?” but instead of answering verbally, he opened his hand and wrapped it tightly around his cock, his hips immediately shooting upwards out of pure pleasure and need. An almighty moan ripped from the centre of his chest, followed in quick succession by a pitiful whimper. His chest heaved with the pressure of the arousal pulsing through him, each sinew buzzing with uncontrollable desire. 

_ “I can’t hear much movement.”  _

He rushed to rectify the complaint, drawing his hand up the thick length of his cock, palm lingering against the over-sensitive tip, reddened and leaking profusely, before sliding it back down. He rested it at the base, clenching his fist around it. He took a breath inwards before sliding his hand up the shaft once more, then back down, faster. He repeated the action over and over, picking up speed with each downward stroke. His fingers sliding over his cock sounded positively obscene, the slick sounds echoing throughout the barren room, only made even filthier by the sounds teaming from his lips; each one encouraging his love more than the last. He paused in his ministrations upon becoming aware that there was the sound of ruffling fabric through the phone, piquing his interest. He could hear sheets being moved, trousers being slid down legs perhaps, and the abundantly obvious sound of elastic being forced down the thighs, feet fighting to kick it away. He knew, then, that Boris was just as naked as he was — and that elicited a whole new wave of pleasure. 

“What are  _ you _ up to?” He couldn’t refrain from asking. 

_ “The exact same as you. A one man party is no fun.”  _

He couldn’t argue with that logic. He listened closely as a similar bottle of lubricant was opened, followed by a more flaunted sound of it being spread over a palm — was he making it even more vivid by accentuating his noises? He couldn’t help but wonder. But the wonderment soon gave way to a near painful wave of arousal that pulsed through him, causing his cock to throb in his palm as he heard the very, very obvious and exquisite sound of Boris’s large hand sliding over his cock. He indulged in the image of his thick fingers sliding up and down the shaft, his incredibly coarse thumb tracing over the tip, teasing another drop of pre-cum from it, scooping it up as it pooled at the tip. His mouth watered profusely at the mental image, mind reeling with the strength of his own imagination. 

_ “Are you still stroking your cock?”  _

“I— I still have my hand  _ on _ my cock, but—” 

_ “I didn’t tell you to stop stroking your cock, did I?”  _

The sternness of his voice sprung him back into action, encouraging him to start stroking his cock even more. The slick sound had faded somewhat, so he clumsily picked up the bottle of lubricant and squirted another generous dollop against his tip, moaning lightly at the coldness against his overheated skin. His palm swept it down his length, back up again, down again… Each stroke punctuated with an elongated groan which echoed erotically from wall to wall, eliciting an almost mirrored groan from his love who was also doing the exact same thing as he — which, in turn, created the most hypnotic scenario he could’ve ever imagined. 

_ “You sound so good, love,”  _

“I— it feels good…” he whimpered, barely able to formulate a sentence due to the severity of his arousal stripping him of each and every one of his senses. 

_ “I wish I could feel your cock in my hand… I could hold both of our cocks together, brushing them together… Mmm, how good would that feel, Valera?”  _

He groaned in response, bucking his hips up in search of further contact, hoping to  _ feel _ the contact that Boris was speaking of, alluring him to desire about. As he closed his eyes with each blink, his mind reeled with images — of the two of them together, the slick skin of their cocks rubbing against one another’s, the sight of Boris’s lips parting in front of him, tongue resting on the lower lip as a groan tore through him… He would look positively divine. How could he be expected to resist dropping to his knees and taking such a sweet, hard length in between his lips?

_ “Are you thinking about sucking my cock, you filthy man?”  _

“How on earth did you-” 

_ “You’re too predictable.”  _

They both stopped to share a laugh; a brief difference in the tone of their conversation, a divergence in the phone call. He enjoyed the moment of hearing the laugh he so adored, but was soon distracted by his voice dropping back to a low grunt once again, the sound of slickness just decipherable. 

_ “You’d like to suck my cock, wouldn’t you? Or would you prefer me to drop to my knees in front of you, submit, and take your cock between my lips? I’d look up at you from where I crouch as I slide my tongue across your tip, tasting you, moaning around you like you always do to me… You’d like to have me submit to you, wouldn’t you? I know it’s something you’ve imagined before. You like me dominating you…” a pause. “But you want to dominate me.”  _

A statement, a fact, certainly not a question — and definitely not one he could deny. He had been having an increasing number of thoughts about dominating Boris. Taking the control from him, whipping the rug from beneath his feet, having his body melting and completely at his mercy. He’d imagined it vividly, increasingly frequently lately and it seemed that it hadn’t gone unnoticed. The thought itself was thrilling; that the older man could figure him out with such ease.    
  
He bucked his hips upwards into his fist, hissing sharply as the ridge of his tip brushed against the tightness of his fist, his flesh hypersensitive and so, so intoxicating. He withdrew his hips slowly and flicked them upwards again, pausing to languidly stroke his cock, twisting his wrist slightly to create some variation in his strokes. It wasn’t nearly as good as having Boris’s hand on him, but it was certainly doing the trick — especially when paired with the erotic words and even moreso sinful voice speaking them. He extended his thumb as he reached the top of his length, rubbing it fleetingly against the slit, then back down again where he held it still for a second. He wasn’t ready for this to be nearly over yet - even though he had been practically on the edge all day after being excessively aroused thanks to the vivid dream his mind had thought fit to feed him. He took deep, steadying breaths as he stilled, trying to ground himself a little — but it seemed he wasn’t going to be given such luxury, as soon his sweet love was talking once again, his breath quickening rapidly as he listened to him, completely drawn in by the dulcet tones of his voice.

_ “You want to see me shiver beneath your touch, to hear me beg you to please let me come… You want me to beg you to fuck me, don’t you? You’d love to have that power over me. Just like I have it over you… And it would be difficult to relinquish such power, but I must admit that I have a curiosity as to what that might be like…”  _

He was entirely captivated by his words and the distant sound of him stroking his cock, managing to pick up the rhythm based on the gasps that he would emit between words, signalling that he had stroked to the tip once more, to the most sensitive spot. He listened as his strokes became faster, forgetting about his own cock as he got drawn in to the luscious sounds through the phone, imagining the expression on the gorgeous man’s face. His hand temporarily dropped from his cock as he revelled in the experience of hearing Boris like this, savouring each and every second for as much as he could. 

_ “V-Valera,” a whimpered cry of his name. “Are you- still behaving?”  _

The wavering of his voice, the trembling of his syllables, the remarkable arousal lingering as he said his name… Oh, this man was going to be the death of him. 

  
“I-I’m trying, but I didn’t… I didn’t want to come too quickly—” 

_ “I’m already close, so you needn’t worry. I want us- I want us to come together.”  _

Valery raised his hand back to his cock, wrapping his long fingers around the length, squeezing it before starting to stroke it again, quicker and more determined this time. His accelerated breaths mirrored those of his love’s, the occasional moan tumbling from his own lips which elicited one from Boris’s also. They were feeding off each other’s pleasure, that much was obvious, so each ounce of pleasure that coursed through his veins he made sure to make evident with a sweet sound — a dark growl, a whimper, a small cry. He made sure that he heard every single ounce of what he’d done to him, of how he’d awoken his body with such power that he simply couldn’t control himself. He made sure that he knew just what had been done to him, weakened and trembling for his touch; making do instead with his voice, which had actually made a rather pleasing substitute. 

_ “I want… You to fuck me… When you—” a pause, a moan, a bit back cry. “When you come back. I want you to—” a cry, this time. “To fuck me.”  _

“I’d— love to fuck you,” he replied, voice chalky. “To have you beneath me, crying out because of my cock… I would be a fool to say no… Besides, I have— oh, god, I have dreamed about sliding into you.” He admitted, thrusting his cock into his fist harder, squeezing his fingers around it impossibly tighter. 

_ “Fuck. I’m going to— I’m going to cum, Valera.”  _

“Oh- God, Borja…” he paused, a low moan trembling through his chest, eventually pouring from his lips like honey, succulent and sugary. “How I’d love to hear you say that whilst I’m fucking you… To feel your muscles tighten around my cock as you come, held firmly beneath my body as I pound into you, our skin slapping together in the way that you so love…” 

_ “Come with me, Valera, please.” A rough plea, shaky. Who was he to deny? _

They both came together then, encouraged by Valery’s words and the mental images they brought with them. Their hips bucked helplessly as their balls tightened, orgasms washing over them with such force that it took their breaths away, though moans of pleasure clawed at them to escape. A loud, echoing moan slipped from each man, mingling together in the most erotic way, further encouraging further pulses of orgasm. They each spilled over their chests in unison, backs arching as pleasure shot through them, leaving them shivering wrecks as they slowly descended from the peak of pleasure, collapsing back onto the bed with a heaved sigh. 

The line was filled with heavy breathing, the occasional whimper as the last waves of orgasm rushed to completion, oozing the odd droplet of cum down their spent cocks. They had both simultaneously, unbeknownst to the other, fallen in the exact spot of the bed they would’ve done were they together — Boris on the left, Valery on the right, legs stretched in such a way that they would be easily tangled together in one of their post-sex embraces. 

“That… That was…” 

_ “Unexpected.” Boris supplied, laughing heartily. _

“To put it lightly.” He agreed, smiling brightly as he sank further into the mattress, his body complete and utter jelly. 

_ “Just to say… you have no idea what you’re in for when you get home.”  _

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, my darling…” 

Was the last thing exchanged between both of them as they fell asleep, still holding their phones, their bodies simply too exhausted to hold off sleep any longer — even though they would, undoubtedly, regret falling asleep in such a mess and on the phone the next day. But that was a worry for the next morning, and it was so far from both of their minds as they slept, dreaming of one another and Valery’s imminent return two days from now. Boris smiled as he slept, dreaming of being able to hold his sweet love in his arms once more, listening to the subtle snores as he snuggled against his back, his hand pressed firmly against his tummy. They both had the best night’s sleep they’d had since Valery had left; it seemed all they had needed was a good dose of phone sex.


End file.
